


Look John, I Want the Real Ending.

by CallmeCinza



Series: Poetry for the hidden soldiers [7]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Alexander Hamilton - Ron Chernow, American Revolution RPF
Genre: Historical Figures, Historical Lams, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Short, Soldiers, War, this is pure self indulgent, what I wish had happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 01:38:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18436352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallmeCinza/pseuds/CallmeCinza
Summary: John is dead to his friends and family. An awful death in the battlefield, haven't you heard?Oh, but what if he was hiding in a little house in the middle of nowhere?He couldn't be more lonely there than how he already felt... but of course there's Alex and he misses him.





	Look John, I Want the Real Ending.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ossapher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ossapher/gifts).



> This is 50 % self indulgence of what a part of me wishes had happened, and the other percent is closure for me to this ordinary men that have given me so much to reflect upon life and death and glory.

"Maybe someday we'll know how it finishes", John responded, at which Alexander frowned. "Alright... maybe imagination can replace what we don't have".  
Alexander scoffed "I want closure, Jack; real closure. We deserve to know what happened".  
"I know you do, Alex".

John could remember that night clearly, sometimes with irony, sometimes with melancholy, but today he remembered it with a purpose.

A young fella, no more than 14 years old, lost in a sea of warriors and bad mouthed marines ended up making errands during two weeks at the camp where Washington was being established. Was he young and inexperienced? Yes, a bad marine, a miserable warrior? Certainly. But no one could say they expected to find in him such a great story teller. 

Of course life's unfair. Of course a bullet would go through his chest. And of course he would die soon before he got to finish his story, leaving everyone expecting until they forgot about it.

Alexander was furious and couldn't forget. And the basic ending John would give him wasn't enough. He wished the kid would come back from the land of the dead, not just because his death was unfair, but mostly because he craved the true ending of his delicious story.

Of course life's unfair and that the kid and his tell's finale stayed 8 meters underground. But not even death would stop Alexander from having what he wanted so badly; he decided that, once the war was over, he would go to the kid's family, tell them what a talented young man he was "Show some respect, you know? And then I'll tell his wonderful story... Impossible he never told his mum or siblings about it. They have to know".

This memory gave John hope. It meant, above all, that Alexander wouldn't stop until had "real closure", the Grand Finale. And John never gave him anything near that. For Alex he just disappeared, for Alex, John and his love were buried 8 meters underground. And something inside John strongly stated "Alexander will find out what the actual ending is, not the basic ending you gave him to calm him down".

John was unsure of many things, but right now, inside his little shack, hidden from the world, he was sure Alexander won't rest until he finds him.  
And how he faked his death.

And how he couldn't burn any of his memories with him, any of his poems, of his peaces of heart.

And this time, John would let himself feel happiness in the thought. He would savor it like it was honey, this idea that Alex would find his way home. But then he found more pleasure in other thought: he was ready.  
"But ready for what exactly?", he whispered in the lonely room and grabbed his dirty Bible, where he hid everything Alexander. He put on his boots and took his coat, ready to grab the door handle."I'm just... ready", he answered, and with a strong hold on his book, the other hand turned the knob.  
"I'm ready for everything".  
The blue on the sky, the wood on the trees, the green of the leaves, everything was so beautiful, and so alive, like it was the first time he saw them.

And the least expected day the door would open, the day John is not afraid to love and decides is worthier the joy than the sadness, the life than the death.  
The door would open and the shack would never be cold again.  
The door would open and John would start to live.

**Author's Note:**

> All right, maybe it's weird I'm dedicating this to a person whom I don't know, but I know their writing, and it has given me a lot of comfort when I most needed it. And also joy, lots of joy and sadness too; and also, just as this men, this writer has given me a lot to think through their wonderful characters, even if they are not "real"... but they are, aren't they?
> 
> Also thank you to all of you who are brave, brave enough to choose love and happiness, because we know how addictive sadness can be. So thank you for making the life easier for all of those who surround you by being kind. Your efforts are worthy.


End file.
